1 Chapter 001: Interrogated and Disposed

Cold.

So cold that it's stinging like thousands of needles carved their way into just the muscles of my skin.

It doesn't particularly bother me though.

I found it a little comforting, or a little euphoric maybe.

I took a deep long breath. Cold. It fills my lungs. It stimulates me. It is addictive.

I took another one. And another one.

I was awake. I felt everything.

By slowly turning my body to the right, and supporting myself with my right elbow and left hand. Now, I was sitting on a polished rock. The texture was the smoothest indeed. It could only be described as a little smoothed.

Darkness welcomed my eyes. I took my time to look deeper into the darkness and see if I see anything, but nothing happens.

My eyes weren't useful for now. No sound. Not even an echo of my fingers snapping. My ears were not useful either.

Terrifying, unknown. My heart beat faster. I could now hear it.

Got my IP leak? Mafia? Mercenary? Business rivals? Maybe individual revenge.

Whatever it is, I was at a disadvantage yet alive. I had something he/she/they look for. Probably knowledge about my past clients or money.

Whatever I have was not a useful leverage.

I need them to be content with me being outside or I need an internet connection to have a reliable team for rescue. 3 or 4 of my untraceable Bitcoin wallets will suffice.

I need more reliable, more personal, and situational info. Location first, info about the aggressor(s) second.

I got on my feet. Then spread into the floor and crawled for a short time.

Again, a weird texture. Very weird.

After that, I saw a pale and disrupted line of white. It is a door. Horizontal, the door is not ajar.

I crawled into the light and see the other end. I saw some snow and nothing else. North hemisphere or exceptional South locations. It was safe to assume the northern hemisphere.

I heard some footsteps.

I got up and ran in the opposite direction from the door.

If I heard him walking, he would hear me running. I did something unnecessary. Will it affect the negotiations? I couldn't think straight.

The door opened, creaking and screaming.

1... 2... 4... 7... 12 men came in wearing windshields and military cargo trousers, and military boots. The majority were not ex-soldiers for the USA as they laced the wrong directions or completely different styles. 3 of them worn clock outwards, 2 of them worn clock inwards.

Not even mercenaries. A big group with a few qualified men.

They were trying to scare me. Money is what they need, not revenge.

"Please, I need to go. I... My wife isn't safe now. Please let me go... Please... Just say what you need. I... I can help you. Whatever you need, I can give you all my possessions. Please... Just-"

I got kicked from my chin. Hurts, hurts, fcking hurts. My jaw's not gonna work for a while. Not gonna work for my entire life maybe. Fck. How can I speak now?

I completely overdid it. Dumbest decision of my life at the worst possible time.

How many kidnapped guys have I ever seen in my life? More than 20. How many of them lived after? Zero.

Haaa... Well, I didn't have anything in my hands.

One of them did a hand gesture. He should be the vice leader or the leader. Latter is a low probability.

Another guy talked to me, I had assumed he was the leader.

"Terrence Smith, Russell Borg, Hassan Malik, Vladimir Lapin, Dimitri Snetkov, Chris Allen... The list goes on and on. Let's start with your real name?"

Errand boy comes with a pen and a bunch of paper.

Most of my main identities are now exposed.

Trust is a sweet poison. I have only trusted one person with one thing in my entire career, and here I am.

They gave me the pen and a piece of paper.

"I don't have one." I wrote

Another man comes closer. I got punched in the stomach.

I let go of all the air in my lungs just with the flow of the punch. Definitely helped.

"I don't have much time with you. If you are going to be this unhelpful, what should I do?" the vice leader says with a friendly smile."Come on, help me a little. I don't see any reason to not help you with your problems too."

Friendly approach. If I didn't cooperate in my next move torture is the next method they'll use.

amateur job.

"Thueban," I wrote on the paper they gave me.

"See, it's not that hard, isn't it, Taaban?"

It's not how you pronounce it, but it's close enough.

"Surname?"

"Sangir"

"Safehouse location?"

"I don't need a safehouse. I was putting all of my effort into veiling myself."

Fck.

I tried to plead with my dislocated jaw but failed.

"Wo! Vlea-"

An ear-piercing sound.

I heard someone blabbering.

I saw some lights flickering and making some patterns. They were getting faster and faster.

They got so fast that I can now see the whole complex pattern.

Patterns glowed more and more, then died a little, and finally, it got so bright that I can now see anything other than light like a dying star.

It suddenly gets dark.